How Much Longer Until The End?
by MeegsReads
Summary: A short story in which Rosalie Hale watches her husband slowly fall in love with someone else."It's alarming how heartbreaking it is to watch the one you love gradually fall for someone else." I casually remark.
1. Chapter 1: Humpty Dumpty Sat On a Wall

**Disclaimer:** **I Fiction 101 do not own the stories Twilight, New Moon, Eclipse or Breaking Dawn or the characters within them. Each book is a works of art in its own way and I appreciate them, but I have no ownership rights to them.**

 **A/N: This little idea nugget popped into my head and demanded to be shared.** **It's been ages since I've written anything for viewer consumption so please be kind.**

* * *

 **How Much Longer Until The End?**

 **Chapter One: Humpty Dumpty Sat On a Wall**

 _Once upon a time we fell apart_  
 _You're holding in your hands the two halves of my heart_

 _-Coldplay; Princess of China_

They are together again. Laughing at some inside joke; _her_ head tossed back in pure ecstasy. Him grinning like the cat that got the canary. The perfect picture of happiness. They made me sick and yet you couldn't pay me enough to look away.

"It's alarming how heartbreaking it is to watch the one you love gradually fall for someone else." I casually remark, my eyes trained on the two figures conversing outside, a mere thirty feet separating us. _She_ playfully slaps his arm just as he wiggles his eyebrows.

The descent. The slow yet steady fall. So many years have passed since it was me falling slow in love and yet the steps still remain the same. You lose your footing. You tumble. You roll. And before you know it you're head-over-heels. It's pathetic how predictably unpredictable the fall can be.

I catch his eye and he waves. The guilt of him being happier in this moment with _her_ than he has ever been in a lifetime with me is apparent in the way he smiles. His dimples seem deeper now that _she's_ around. A ludicrous notion and yet...

 _She_ says something and _she_ resumes _her_ rightful place as the centre of his universe. _Her_ gravitational pull far too strong for him to resist.

I cross my arms and scowl at the third-wheel being reflected back at me in the window. When did I become the unwelcome intruder in my own relationship?

Stupid question.

The day he saw _her_. The day he r _eally_ saw _her_. New. Intriguing. Jovial. Full of life and passion. So kind. So sweet. Too pretty.

Did he really think that I was oblivious?

The funny thing about being someone's world is when you stop being their world you notice.

The sun no longer rises and sets at your command. You're no longer the place they call home. You're just another planet in the Sun's orbit. Uninhabitable, foreign and cold.

"Oh Rose." Alice coos, "Emmett loves you."

I'd never question Emmett's love for me or his loyalty to me. I'm smarter than that.

Yes, Emmett loves me, but he doesn't _like me. He_ hasn't liked me for years. And what's love without like?

I glance over my shoulder to look at her for just a second. Her elfin features are the perfect mixture of comfort and reassurance.

My eyes drift back to the window and my open palm splays across the glass.

"How much longer-?" I'm not quite sure what I want to ask.

How much longer until they share their first kiss? How much longer will I be his? How much longer will he be mine? How much longer until he leaves me? How much longer do we have left? How much longer until the end?

"Rose..." Alice is by my side in an instant, her hand rubbing soothing circles on my back.

"How much longer?" I repeat.

"A month. Maybe two." Her voice is barely a whisper but her words echo in my head. And just like that it becomes all too real. Our days are numbered.

The end is an undeniably tragic concept and what's even more tragic is that my sweet, loveable fool has no idea how far he's stumbled and rolled into the descent. He's on the verge of something new and he doesn't even know it.

The wind blows ruffling _her_ hair. He's quick to smooth a wayward strand back in place.

I feel it when it happens. The shattering. The splintering. The breaking of my undead heart.

"Just in time for spring." I hear myself say. "How lovely."

* * *

 **A/N:Thank you so much for reading. Please let me know if this is something that I should continue.**


	2. Chapter 2:Humpty Dumpty Had a Great Fall

**Disclaimer:** **I Fiction 101 do not own the stories Twilight, New Moon, Eclipse or Breaking Dawn or the characters within them. Each book is a work of art in its own way and I appreciate them, but I have no ownership rights to them.**

A/N: The general consensus was that this should not be a one-shot and as a servant to the people I am all too happy to oblige. Honestly, I'm over the moon that you guys enjoyed it so much. So without further ado; Chapter Two.

* * *

 **How Much Longer Until The End?**

 **Chapter Two: Humpty Dumpty Had a Great Fall**

 _So I lay down my guard, drop my defenses, down by my clothes_  
 _I'm learning to fall, with no safety net, to cushion the blow_

 _I bruise easily, so be gentle when you handle me_

 _Natasha Bedingfield; I Bruise Easily_

He talks about _her_ constantly.

 _Did you know she's a dancer?_

 _She's never been skiing. We should take her._

 _She loves this song._

 _She did the funniest thing today..._

Night after night the word vomit flows freely. _Her_ name falling from his lips with ease.

I fuck him hard to shut him up. I work him slowly so he forgets. I make love to him passionately only stopping when the bed is broken beneath us. And for a second my name replaces _hers_.

It's bliss.

"Babe!" Emmet whispers hoarsely. "Whatever that was, I liked it." He leans over and kisses my bare shoulder.

I hope _she_ heard us. Who am I fooling, I made sure _she_ heard us. It's odd how much misery loves company.

I rake my fingers through his mussed curls. "Say it again."

"Say what again?" He looks at me quizzically.

"My name. Say it again."

Emmett smiles and it almost looks like the smile that's reserved for _her._ The one where his dimples are unbelievably deep and his eyes look like the saucers of an ingenue. "Why? Did you forget it?"

I don't know why but I desperately need to hear my name roll off of his tongue the way it did moments before. So easily. So sexily. So hungrily. To return to that wrinkle in time when I was his world and he was mine.

"Humour me, Monkey-Man. Say my name."

He stares at me for a second before taking my face between his palms and placing a chaste kiss on my forehead. "Rosalie Lillian Hale. My angel. My love."

I close my eyes and will him to remember what we had before _her._ Before he falls further from my reach. Before it's too late.

 _A month. Maybe two._

He peppers my skin with kisses, working his way up from the hollow of my throat to my ear. "Rose. Rose. Rose." He mumbles against me. "Are you satisfied?"

"Mmhmm" I hum in response.

 _"_ Good."He presses his lips to my temple and then his weight on the bed is gone.

My eyes fly open and I prop myself up on my elbow. "You're leaving?"

He's already getting dressed.

Panic courses through my veins accompanied by anger.

"I told her we'd head over to Goat Rock Wilderness for some real game today." Emmett informs me through the thin fabric of the henley shirt that he's pulling on. "I'm already over an hour late."

"So you're leaving." I repeat. My nails dig into the fabric of the mattress puncturing it.

"Babe, you know there's nowhere that I'd rather be than right here with you but I promised I'd take her... Love you. _"_ He quickly adds as an afterthought.

My head returns to my pillow. I shut my eyes as he shuts the door.

"Then stay." I whisper to the four lonely walls of my empty bedroom. "Then stay."

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A/N: Truth time: I don't really have a plan here. So if you're willing to see where this goes I'm willing to continue writing it. Hopefully it won't be too bumpy of a ride.

Thank you for reading!


	3. Chapter 3: All the King's Horses

**Disclaimer:** **I Fiction 101 do not own the stories Twilight, New Moon, Eclipse or Breaking Dawn or the characters within them. Each book is a work of art in its own way and I appreciate them, but I have no ownership rights to them.**

A/N: Oddly enough, I've really enjoyed writing this sad-sack story. Thank you so much for continuing to read and review. Without further ado; Chapter Three.

* * *

 **How Much Longer Until The End?**

 **Chapter Three: All the King's Horses**

 _Is it over yet?_  
 _Can I open my eyes?_  
 _Is this as hard as it gets?_  
 _Is this what it feels like to really cry?_

 _Cry; Kelly Clarkson_

Never bet against Alice. She's always right.

 _A month. Maybe two._

Two months had passed. And just like that, our time was up.

"Aren't you going to say anything?" His voice sounds strained.

I spare him a glance then return to inspecting my fingernails.

"Rose?" He kneels in front of me at the foot of our bed, running his hands over my thighs. "C'mon, Babe. Say something. Do something. Anything. _Please._ "

"What?" I bark. "What do you want me to do, Emmett? Yell at you? Hit you? Forgive you? Fuck you? Love you? What exactly do you want?"

He recoils and I stand, putting some distance between us.

"What's there to say?"

"I tried. God, I swear I tried so damn hard, Rose."

Venom boils in my veins. "Well, that was your first mistake: _trying_. You shouldn't have to try not to fall in love with someone else."

"I know." He runs his hands through his hair in frustration."I know. I messed up. I messed us up."

I don't want to ask but I do. "Do you love her... more than you love me?"

He's on his feet in an instant, taking my hand into his. The grip he has on my fingers is impossibly tight. "I'm not going anywhere, Rose. I love you."

I rip my fingers from his grasp. "That's not what I asked."

"I'm not going anywhere" He repeats. "I loved you first."

I bite back a sob and cross my arms over my chest, trying desperately to stop myself from shattering into tiny fragments like my heart did months ago. "Just because you chose me first doesn't mean that I'm your first choice. What do you want, Emmett? Who do you want?"

"Fuck," He curses after a moment. "I don't know. I-I don't know."

I shake my head. "I'm not going to stand here and ask you to pick me or beg for you to choose me or plead with you to love me more. I'm done with that. You need to decide."

He doesn't answer but the silence that fills the room speaks volumes.

"I see."

In a flash, he pulls me to him; pressing his lips against mine fiercely. He kisses me with everything he has and I am all to eager to give him everything in return. I pour all of my love, all of my anger, all of my hope into the kiss. I allow my doubts to slip away as his lips move over mine.

"I'm sorry." He murmurs when he pulls away, and my eyes fly open. "I'm so sorry, Rose."

My shoulders drop when I realize what he's apologizing for and in a moment of insecurity I hear myself ask, "Why _her_?"

* * *

It's hours later when Alice finds me fully clothed in a heap on the floor of the shower. She's quick to shut off the water and smooth the wet strands of hair off my face.

"Oh, Rose"

I look at her with unseeing eyes. My garbled brain not allowing me to focus on anything but the ache that has taken up residency in my chest.

Her wiry arms engulf me, forcing my face into the crook of her neck. Water drips from my sopping mop onto her cashmere sweater.

Everything is blurry. My mind is in a fog. My heart is demolished. I'm a complete mess.

"How much longer?" It's the only thing that I can think to ask.

"Shh." Her grip on me tightens, "Don't worry about that right now. You'll be fine. You'lll see."

I push away from her slightly.

"How much longer?" Once again there's so much being asked in so few words and I get a sense of deja vu. How much longer will I be like this? How much longer will it hurt? How much longer until the end?

Alice cups my cheek in one of her small hands. "You're going to be okay, I promise."

"That long, huh? Lovely."

* * *

A/N: I contemplated writing this from Emmett's POV but ultimately decided that since Rose has been our dutiful narrator from day one she should have the honours of bringing things to a close. I think chapter four may be her last... Let me know if you'd like to read something from Emmett's perspective.

I hope you enjoyed this little angsty nugget as much as I enjoyed writing it.


	4. Chapter 4: All the King's Men

**Disclaimer:** **I Fiction 101 do not own the stories Twilight, New Moon, Eclipse or Breaking Dawn or the characters within them. Each book is a work of art in its own way and I appreciate them, but I have no ownership rights to them.**

A/N: Happy New Year FanFiction Family! I'm so excited to kickoff 2018 with an update.

Thank you all so much for the positive feedback on the last chapter, I appreciate every review, favourite and follow.

* * *

 **How Much Longer Until The End?**

Chapter Four: All the King's Men **  
**

 _When you're dreaming with a broken heart_  
 _The waking up is the hardest part_

John Meyer; Dreaming With a Broken Heart

I thought the day that _he_ told me _he'd_ fallen in love with someone else was the end of the world but then _he_ left and the world stopped... it just stopped orbiting around the sun; leaving half of the planet shrouded in a perpetual night or at least that's what it feels like.

 _He_ was the only source of light in my dark existence and without _him_ there will be no more sun, no more days, no more light.

In the months since _his_ departure I have learnt three things about myself.

 _One: I don't respond well to pity._

The way Esme and Carlisle tiptoe around their wounded little bird is far more annoying than it is sweet or considerate. Carlisle blames himself for allowing _her_ to stay with us. I see it in the way he he carefully avoids saying _his_ name in my presence and the way he can never look directly into my eyes. Esme does a clean sweep; removing every picture of _him_ but she can't bring herself to throw them away. _He's_ one of her sons and however much she claims to be disappointed with or angered by _him_ she still loves _him_ almost as much as I still do. So she keeps them all hidden away in a box in the attic between a box of _his_ clothes and a crate of old DVD's where she thinks her little wounded bird is far too weak to fly.

Renesmee plays for me. All of my favourite songs; one after the other, though I rarely leave the comforts of our — my bed to listen. She plays for her Poor Aunt Rose every day until one morning she finds three fist shaped holes punched through the smooth surface of Edward's grand piano.

Jasper soothes me and makes me more palatable. I ask him to stop with his emotional fuckery and like a good Southern gentleman, he respects my wishes.

Even the Mutt and his pack walk on eggshells around me. Being oh-so-polite; never saying too much. I on the other hand say whatever I want. Hurl insults and objects alike.

The hushed whispers echo.

Everyone feels so sorry for me. Everyone wants to help. Everyone cares so damn much.

Everyone except the one person who vowed to stay by my side until death do us part.

* * *

 _Two: Caring is not one of my strong suits._

I've run out of fucks to give.

"I'm going out." I say barely sparing a glance over my shoulder at Bella and Esme as I walk through the kitchen to the back door. There is not a doubt in my mind that that they'd been talking about me through barely moving lips.

I don't care if you mean well.

A chair scrapes against the tiled floor. "Would you like some company?" Bella asks, already on my heels.

I shut the door behind me, with her on one side and me on the other. My silent way of saying "No."

I don't care if I hurt your feelings.

I. Don't. Care.

My emotions are off. All bets are off too.

* * *

 _Three: I'm a total bitch._

And unapologetically so.

I strut down the streets of Seattle with purpose. Hungry, hurt and on a mission.

I want vengeance. I want chaos. I want to feel something other than empty... at least for a second.

I know who I want it to be the second I see her; soft chestnut brown curls brush her shoulders beneath her knit cap as she hurries to jaywalk across the street.

She's pretty... too pretty. Probably too kind and too sweet. And in my minds eye I can picture this girl laughing at some inside joke with her head thrown back in ecstasy. The way _she_ did with _him_.

But it's the gleaming stone on the fourth finger of her left hand that seals the deal.

It doesn't matter that she's someone's fiancé.

It doesn't matter that this girl is someone's daughter.

It doesn't matter that she's someone's friend.

It doesn't matter that she has hopes and dreams.

Like I said, caring isn't one of my strong suits.

I decide then and there that this bitch isn't getting her happily ever after either.

Fuck fairytales.

My pace quickens and I dart across the street after her.

It would be easy. It would be quick. She wouldn't suffer... much.

The notes of caramel and vanilla that compose her perfume fill my nostrils. The sound of her pulse consumes me and I allow myself to get lost in its steady, hypnotic rhythm.

 _Lub-DUB. Lub-DUB. Lub-DUB._

 _Lub-DUB. Lub-DUB. Lub-DUB._

 _Lub-DUB. Lub-DUB. Lub-DUB._

A plan of attack forms in my head: When she rounds the corner and we're out of the dissipating crowd's line of sight I'd snap her pretty little neck and drain her dry. It would take five minutes tops. She'd be on the morning news once her body is spotted by some busboy or jogger and I'd be...

My mind churns in search of an acceptable answer.

I'd still be heartbroken and alone.

 _He'd_ still be with _her_.

Nothing would change.

I exhale, releasing the breath that I hadn't realized I was holding and watch the gir — this young bride-to-be — round the corner without me as her shadow.

* * *

 **A/N: So, this took a little longer than expected to write (sorry about that). Originally I had planned for Rose to go through with killing the girl on the street but I thought it wouldn't be cannon so I changed it.**

 **I think this short story will come to a close within the next chapter or two so I hope you decide to stick around and see how this thing ends (your guess is as good as mine).**

 **Thank you for reading!**


	5. Interlude : Him

**Disclaimer:** **I Fiction 101 do not own the stories Twilight, New Moon, Eclipse or Breaking Dawn or the characters within them. Each book is a work of art in its own way and I appreciate them, but I have no ownership rights to them.**

A/N: Happy Belated Valentines Day! Here's my gift to you: A New Chapter (from Emmett's perspective)! Enjoy! Thank you for all the reviews, alerts and favourites. They mean a lot!

* * *

 **How Much Longer Until The End?**

 _Interlude : Him_

We're goin' down  
And you can see it too  
We're goin' down  
And you know that we're doomed  
My dear  
We're slow dancing in a burnin' room

Slow Dancing in a Buring Room; John Mayer

 _She's just a friend._

 _I have this under control._

 _In time, I'll think of her as a sister; no different from Alice or Bella._

 _...I'm still in love with my wife._

The untruths flow fast and free. Lie after lie. Fib after fib. I tell them to myself more and more each day.

Because they're easy. Because they're safe. Because I'm too weak to face the truth.

If I were being honest I'd say that I enjoy _her_ company a lot more than I should. If I were telling the truth I'd admit that I'm attracted to _her_. If I weren't a coward I'd acknowledge the fact that I haven't been happy in so long that I've almost forgotten what it feels like.

God, what I would give to be honest.

Instead I delve further into the illusion; feigning happiness where there is resentment. Kissing lips that have long since gone bitter. Keeping up the charade; playing the role that I'd been cast in: Dutiful Husband to Rosalie Hale.

The lies are easy; the truth is hard.

So I continue deluding myself because oddly enough the more you lie, the more those lies begin to sound like the truth.

I didn't set out in search of something new. I'm not that kind of guy. But its not long after _her_ arrival that I find myself wondering and my mind wandering.

The moments that I get to spend with _her_ where easy silences are interupted by inside jokes are my favourite moments of the day.

Anxiously waiting and eagerly anticipating are how I spend my time between those moments.

Not that I'd ever say it out loud.

Not that I _could_ ever say it out loud.

 _She's just a friend._

 _I have this under control._

 _In time, I'll think of her as a sister; no different from Alice or Bella._

The moments that we get seem fleeting and far too short. They seem to end just as quickly as they begin. I prob _her_ with questions and I am filled with facts; so full that the facts spill from my lips unconsciously.

 _Her_ love of nineties pop and seventies rock is of little interest to Jasper.

 _Her_ distaste for the colour orange does nothing for Carlisle.

 _Her_ past as a dancer annoys Rose almost as much as it fascinates me.

 _She's_ funny and sweet in ways that I didn't know anyone could be funny and sweet.

 _She's just a friend._

 _I have this under control._

 _In time, I'll think of her as a sister; no different from Alice or Bella._

The first time we kiss it's soft and slow. _She's_ got leaves stuck in _her_ curls and _her_ lips are stained red with grizzly blood. We both swear it will never happen again... that it _can_ never happen again.

And it doesn't... not for a few weeks. The second time we kiss we're in my Jeep, _she 's_ never driven stick so I offer to teach _her. She's_ a quick learner and I'm a good teacher. At some point during the lesson my hands end up buried in _her_ hair and _she_ winds up on my lap. We're fuelled by hunger and need. This time when we part, we don't make promises we have no intention of keeping.

While kissing _her_ for the third time a startling thought creeps in: _Holy shit, I could get used to this._

 _She's just a friend._

 _I have this under control._

But here's the thing about lies; the lies we tell ourselves are so much worse than the lies we tell others.

Jasper knows, he's known for a while. He doesn't say anything except with eyes. He's disapproving gaze says more than a thousand words ever could.

Alice knows, she's known for a while. She can't stand to be around me. She exits every room that I enter.

Edward knows, he's known for a while and one afternoon between moments he asks to have a word with me. You can always count on Edward Cullen to call you on your bullshit.

Despite the fact that he's a mind reader I know exactly what he's going to say before he says it.

"You need to tell Rosalie." He says frankly, "I know you're tired of lying and she's tired of being lied to."

I look at him, startled by his words. Maybe I didn't know exactly what he had to say after all. "Rose knows?" I ask. Panic shoots through me in a way that it hasn't since turning.

He nods, "Yeah. She's known for a while."

My head falls into my hands."Fuck."

"Yeah." Edward agrees.

* * *

"Babe?" I call upon entering our bedroom. Rose looks up at me through a fan of full dark lashes from where she is perched at the foot of our bed. "We need to talk."

* * *

A/N: So there you have it, Emmett's POV. Although, I am completely loyal to Rosalie bringing this to a close (I'm pretty sure I say this in every update) this switch in POV was a longtime coming. I thought it was imperative that Emmett got his moment in the spotlight and hopefully his take on things didn't disappoint. He loves Rose but at some point during their forever he fell out of love.

I hope you like this chapter a fraction as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Thank you for reading!


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